


Lace

by raspberrymocha



Series: Fabric, Ignis's Sanity, and Other Fraying Things [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha Gladiolus Amicitia, Alpha Ignis Scientia, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta Prompto Argentum, Knotting, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Omega Noctis Lucis Caelum, Panties, Self-Lubrication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 21:05:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15715065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raspberrymocha/pseuds/raspberrymocha
Summary: While doing the laundry one day, Ignis makes an interesting discovery regarding Noct's choice of undergarments.





	Lace

Ignis isn’t an idiot, as anyone who knows him can attest. He knows what sort of things omegas wear under their clothes, despite not having much first hand experience. It’s just that Noctis had never seemed overly concerned with traditional gender roles. He still remembers when Noct first began high school, how he’d vehemently refused to wear the standard omega uniform and wore the alpha one instead.

Which is why Ignis is so confused by the scrap of black lace he finds mixed in with their laundry. Briefly, he entertains the idea that they might be Prompto’s. There aren’t as many rules about what betas should and should not do, after all. Then he notices the stain on them – dark, hard to see, but undeniably where an omega had begun to leak slick.

Surreptitiously, he glances in the direction of the others, though he can’t see them. He had to go quite far from camp to find a good place to do their laundry – a chore that none of them had bothered offering to help with. They’re probably absorbed in King's Knight or some other diversion, and unlikely to bother him.

It’s with no small degree of shame that he lifts the garment to his face and sniffs it. He reasons that he should know if they belong to some random omega. But no, they smell like Noctis - like sunshine and magic, but more powerful than Ignis has ever smelt it from the respectable distance he always keeps from the prince.

His dick, always interested where Noctis is concerned, twitches inside his pants. Images come to mind – the kind he normally only allows himself during his ruts, when he can’t stop himself from whimpering the prince’s name.

He pictures Noct, skin flushed against the black silk of his sheets at home. Lips red and swollen, nipples twin peaks on his chest. The trail of dark hair on his stomach that, so far, Ignis has only briefly glimpsed during stretches and such. And further down, the head of Noctis’s cock peeking out from these panties.

On an instinctual level, Ignis likes the idea of Noctis on all fours, begging for his knot, like the stereotypical omega in every porno ever. Realistically, though, he knows that Noct won’t beg so much as demand to be fucked. And Ignis, weak as he is, will give in every time.

(Of course, if he’s being totally realistic, this scenario would never happen at all, but he’s allowed some liberties, isn’t he?)

His cock is more insistent now, begging for some kind of attention (preferably from Noctis). Ignis has just enough sense to slip behind some rocks, as he begins to fumble with his belt. At least that way, on the off chance the others come looking for him, he’ll have time to collect himself before they catch him jerking off to Noctis’s panties. He reasons that it’s basically a necessity at this point, that his erection can’t be ignored anymore. It’s a flimsy excuse, at best.

He conjures up that image again, of Noct, wearing only these panties. This time, he actually allows himself to think about touching, running his hands along Noctis’s muscular chest and thighs, pausing only to toy with his nipples some more. Only then will he move between Noct’s legs, where he wants it the most. He’ll feel the silk and the lace beneath his fingers, tracing the outline of Noct’s leaking cock. The whole time, Noct will be making the sweetest, most impatient noises.

“Hurry _up_.” He’ll huff, and Ignis will be helpless to obey.

He’ll hook his thumbs in the waistband of Noct’s panties and pull them down, literally peeling them away from his entrance. Or maybe he won’t. Maybe Ignis will push them out of the way just enough to reveal Noct’s leaking hole. Maybe it will already be puffy and red and dripping with come. _Ignis’s_ come.

He won’t hesitate to push in, knowing that Noctis is already stretched out and ready for him. Noctis might whine, body protesting another mating so soon, but won’t tell him to stop. He’ll want it, want Ignis to fill him up even more. He’s greedy like that.

Ignis loses himself then, to the thought of fucking Noctis. How hot and wet he’ll be. How the silk will feel against his hips. How Noctis will arch his back and moan when he finds the right angle. Then, when he’s ready for Noct to come, he’ll reach into his panties and stroke him to completion.

Noctis will look glorious when he comes, head thrown back, mouth in a perfect “O”.

Dimly, Ignis is aware that he’s still clutching Noct’s panties, that he’s rubbing them along his cock, smearing precum across them. But it’s too late to stop now. He can feel his own orgasm building, knot already swelling at the base of his dick. He squeezes it, and has to bite down on his lip before he does something stupid like scream Noct’s name as he comes.

When he comes down, he realizes that he’s made quite the mess. The panties are streaked with white, and it’s just a good thing he was already washing laundry. It’s uncomfortable, but he manages to tuck himself back into his pants. The knot will go down while he works, he supposes.

* * *

Noctis is sitting around camp with the others when Ignis finally returns. He’s got a funny look on his face that Noct can’t quite place. It’s something like guilt, and he really hopes that a bunch of their clothes didn’t somehow turn pink.

“You were sure gone a while.” Gladio says without looking up from his book.

“Apologies. There were some rather… stubborn stains.”

Noct wants to ask how badly stained a bunch of black clothing could be, but he’s also seen how dirty their clothes get, and he doubts washing clothes in a river is really all that effective.

Ignis sets his basket down and Noctis totally doesn’t stare at his ass while he does it. (It’s a nice ass, though.) He hands one stack to Gladio. Then another to Prompto, who unceremoniously shoves them into his bag even though Ignis went through all the trouble of folding them up neatly. Then he hesitates, glancing over at Noct. There’s that weird look on his face again, and Noct begins to suspect that his clothes really have turned pink.

“A word, Noct?” He says, scooping up the basket.

“Sure.” Noct says slowly, and follows him into the tent.

Ignis sets his basket down again and produces another pile of laundry. With horror, Noct realizes why he’s been acting funny. On top of the stack are the black panties he wore just yesterday. He’d been so careful about separating them from the rest of the laundry, but this pair must have blended in with his other clothes.

He’s not embarrassed about wearing them, not exactly. It’s just that he doesn’t want to have to deal with others teasing him when they find out. Not that it’s any of their business, anyway. (Even if he kind of wants to make it Ignis’s business.)

“Shit. Sorry, you weren’t supposed to see that.” He says, snatching the laundry from Ignis and shoving it some place where he doesn’t have to think about it.

“It’s quite alright.” Ignis says, but his face is red and he’s clearly uncomfortable. “You needn’t feel embarrassed about what you choose to wear. That’s not why I wanted to speak with you. I know that it isn’t any of my business, but we didn’t exactly pack for a long trip. If you needed slick pads, all you had to do was say so.”

Oh, Ramuh strike him down now. Noctis doesn’t bother mentioning that’s it all Ignis’s fault. If he weren’t so stupidly handsome, Noct wouldn’t be leaking all the time. Even now, he can feel himself getting wet, and its probably only by the grace of the Astrals or some shit that Ignis can’t smell it.

“Okay. Yeah. I’ll probably look around next time we stop for potions.”

“Excellent. Never feel ashamed for taking care of yourself.” Ignis says, and Noct thinks that’s the end of it.

Until the next morning. He’s the last one up, as usual, but that gives him plenty of privacy to get changed. He doesn’t think about, just grabs the first thing he can find. It just so happens to include the same panties.

It isn’t strange for his clothes to smell slightly of Ignis – of fire and old books – considering he just washed them. The scent coming of of these particular undergarments, however, is much stronger than it has any right to be. What did Ignis do, rub them all over himself?

And yeah, it’s probably best not to dwell on that thought too much.

Still, he remembers the weird, cagey way Ignis had been acting. He’d attributed it shame, for even accidentally handling an omega’s underwear, and the prince’s no less. But maybe… No, Ignis wouldn’t do something like that. It’s probably just his imagination.


End file.
